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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27671615">First Freeze</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessaKyla/pseuds/PrincessaKyla'>PrincessaKyla</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>1930s, Alternate Universe - 1930s, Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Female!Steve Rogers, Great Depression, Howard Stark is an asshole, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Secret Projects, Smoking, Stephanie is Steve</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 23:40:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,861</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27671615</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessaKyla/pseuds/PrincessaKyla</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony Stark has been enjoying the independence of farm life with his wife and children, but the Great Depression has pushed them to the brink and forced them to take a small stipend from Howard. Howard can't pass up the leverage that gives him over Tony's life and uses it to convince him to come home for the Winter and return to work at Stark Industries on various projects. Of course, he has his own motives that Tony is not aware of.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Steve Rogers/Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Fall 2020 Bringing Food to the Lab Seasonal Bingo</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Preface: Sunrise</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Eventually, there will be more of this, but for now, have a preface as I work on the rest of the plot haha. This chapter contains references to child abandonment, and to the general struggle of the Great Depression.</p><p>This chapter was created for the Fall 2020 Bringing Food to the Lab Seasonal Bingo, filling the square "Frosty Sunrises"!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Stephanie pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders. The house was always cold on fall mornings before she got started with breakfast, but today was especially cold, the wood floors icy against her toes as she checked on the children and let Tony sleep a bit longer. He’d been working late the night before on some new gizmo that he was hoping to sell to get them out from under his father’s charity soon. It chafed at him, really, to not be able to provide for his wife and children better, but it wasn’t his fault the country was in a shambles and crop prices were falling with no hope of rising as the Depression worsened. She could only hope he would be gentler with himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As she made it downstairs, she shivered and headed for the stove. Not even winter yet and she was contemplating turning on the heat. It was too expensive, really, but goodness what a luxury. She turned on the stove, lighting a burner and starting the oven. That would at least heat the kitchen as she cooked, and maybe she could convince Tony or Clint and Pietro to start a fire in the living room hearth for her after breakfast. That would better heat the rest of the house for the day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, Stephanie,” she murmured. “Breakfast. You’ve gotta feed the army.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Under her experienced hands, biscuits came together quickly, nice round circles dropping into the pan. The flour was running short, she noticed, and she wondered if they’d be able to afford that and sugar in the next supply run without dipping into the savings account Howard had given Tony. At least the eggs were all hers. Her chickens were good layers, and made up for the shortage of meat and dairy. If the cow continued to not give much milk, Tony would probably slaughter it and make sure they had at least some meat to start the winter with. “Stop worrying, Stephanie,” she chastised herself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She glanced out the window, and she could have sworn she saw the frost creep further along the glass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The eggs were frying when Tony made his way into the kitchen, kissing her cheek and opening the coffee tin to decide if there was enough there for him to feel comfortable making even a weak pot for the morning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How are we doing on other essentials?” he asked, seemingly offhand, but Stephanie knew he was calculating the cost of groceries and farm supplies they had to have to make it through the winter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Almost out of flour,” she said matter-of-factly. “Sugar’s gone, of course, and Natasha’s starting to develop a cough again, so we’ll need some whiskey.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony almost swore, biting it off into a snort. “We’re never going to get out from under Howard at this rate,” he sighed. “I will die beholden to that man.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stephanie weighed what to say very carefully. “I will take being beholden to him if it means we keep the kids clothed and housed and mostly fed,” she said. “Besides, he smokes like a chimney and drinks like a fish. He’ll keel over and die someday soon and the company will be yours anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe,” Tony said, a note of bitterness in his voice. He grabbed the coffee tin and set about making a fresh pot, clearly upset.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony…” Stephanie said softly. Wiping her hands, she turned and wrapped her arms around him from behind, pressing her face into his back. “Tony, we’re lucky. I know...I know you hate him, and he deserves that. But what choices do we have? The farm can’t support us right now and nobody’s buying new inventions. We just have to stick it out, and we can go back to our independence.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony took her hands and kissed them. “You’re right,” he sighed. “As usual.” He rubbed her hands, noticing how cold they were. “We should build some fires, warm the house up. I’ll look at turning on the heat soon. Think we had a freeze last night. Frosty morning like this means we’re gearing up for winter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The gray light of early morning shifted to a wan, golden glow as the sun broke the horizon, and the frost on the kitchen window glittered like the long-gone diamonds from Stephanie’s wedding ring, now replaced with paste stones.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a creak of floorboards upstairs, and then there was the soft noise of the children getting up and dressing for the day. Clint and Pietro came first, tucking their shirts in as they came. “Morning, Momma!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning, boys. You washed up, yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. Sit down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As they were settling in, Natasha came down, Peter on her hip and Wanda holding her hand, her other thumb in her mouth and blanket trailing behind her. Stephanie smiled at them. “Good morning, sweeties.” Peter cooed and reached for her, so she took him, balancing him on one hip as she went to finish making breakfast. Natasha settled Wanda into her chair and carefully tucked her blanket around her. As usual, Wanda was fairly quiet, and as she did most times, Stephanie worried about her. She and Tony had taken Wanda and Pietro in when they found them alone in the city on a visit to Howard. Pietro had said their parents were gone, and they didn’t know where, just that they had woken up one morning to no food on the table, no valuables left in their apartment, and no indicator of when in the night their parents had left. Stephanie wondered if Wanda knew more than she let on, but she was too young to really be pressed about it, so Stephanie let it be. She settled Peter into his high chair and brought the food to the table. “Eat up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everyone dug in, and as Stephanie headed for her seat, she brushed a hand across Tony’s shoulders, and he put a hand on hers for a moment as he sipped his coffee. Maybe things were tough, but as the sunrise had reminded them, the world would keep turning for now.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 1 -- Lunch, and an Order</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Howard arrives and delivers an ultimatum -- come home for the winter, or the money stops. Tony and Stephanie have little choice but to agree.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Howard is definitely an ass, let's be real. Mild violence this chapter, and Howard being a creep about Natasha.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tony had retreated into the fields to prepare the winter crop, with a promise to turn over Stephanie’s garden for the winter vegetables in the afternoon, when the car pulled up. It was very expensive looking, and shiny, clearly well maintained. When a driver stepped out and opened the back door, Stephanie knew what, or rather who, was coming.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’d never expected her father-in-law to come here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Piet, run fetch Papa and the others,” she said, gaze focused out the window, steely determination on her face. “Tell them Grandfather’s here.” To his credit, Pietro ran off with nothing more than a nod, stopping only to grab his coat to ward off the chill. Peter whined at losing his playmate and Stephanie scooped him up from the floor where he had been playing. “Hush now,” she murmured. “We got company.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The knock at the door was firm, and nearly made her lose her nerve. Everything in her screamed to run, to hide, to tell Tony to load the kids in the truck and flee. But she was not a coward, and Howard coming to the farm could only mean one thing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her stomach growled as if to remind her how close to lunchtime it was, and how little there was to go around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stephanie opened the door, pasting a neutral, polite smile on her face. “Mr. Stark, what a pleasant surprise. Come on in and sit a spell won’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Howard gave a cold smile and stepped inside. “Stephanie.” He looked around, clearly appraising the place. “My, what...character the place has.” It was said neutrally enough, but Stephanie saw where his eyes went, saw the scratches, the splinters, the faults in the paint, the signs of a draft. Howard definitely couldn’t see this house as a home. “But nowhere near the caliber of home you deserve, my dear, not with so many beautiful children.” He smiled at Peter then, who shrunk away with a whimper. “Oh come, now, boy, no love for your grandfather?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s at that stage where strangers are very scary, Mr. Stark, you’ll have to forgive him,” Stephanie said, attempting to placate the man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nonsense, I’m no stranger,” Howard said, lifting the small boy from her arms before she could protest. Peter began to cry, tiny face scrunched in confused fright. “Hush that crying this instant!” The demand shocked Peter into stunned silence. Stephanie wondered how long it would take her to ease the fear she saw in his eyes when this was over, if he would be wary of Tony. “That’s the ticket.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The back door banged open, and Stephanie jumped a bit. “Pietro Stark, you bang that door again, I’ll send you for a switch!” she said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, Momma! Papa and the others are comin’!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Coming,” Howard said. “The others are coming. Mind your diction, child.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pietro looked surprised at being corrected and looked to Stephanie for confirmation. She just gave a slight shake of her head to indicate it wasn’t an issue and Pietro relaxed. “Why don’t we sit down?” she asked brightly. “There’s plenty of space in the sitting room.” She didn’t wait for Howard to answer her, simply walking into the room at a moderate pace. “I apologize for the mess, Pietro and Wanda have been helping me with the quilting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Howard took the good easy chair, and Wanda had to take Pietro’s hand to stop him from chasing him out of it for Tony. Stephanie settled on the sofa and tried not to hold her breath as they waited for the others. It was a relief to hear them coming in a minute or two later, hanging up hats and coats before coming in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, Tony,” Howard said. “Good of you to join us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony’s smile was acidic. “Of course, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Pops</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I’m just sorry it took me so long to get here. Kids and I were plowing for the winter wheat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> you insist on continuing with this pointless exercise. When you and Stephanie were newlyweds, I understood wanting your own place, somewhere to establish who you two were as a married couple, as the newest Mr. and Mrs. Stark. And even when Clinton came along, I understood it. It was very idyllic. But by now, I had expected you to come home and return to work. I gave you the money to get by expecting you to put affairs in order, sell the land and livestock to the neighbors and perhaps keep the house as a private get away, not continue to stretch this on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, well,” Tony said, frowning. “I like the farm, like the work. Liked the independence it gave me up until recently.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Howard laughed, loudly, which made Peter cower at the volume. “Independence? Tony, subsistence and barely making do is not independence, and need I remind you who </span>
  <em>
    <span>paid</span>
  </em>
  <span> for this property? You would not be here at all if not for my generosity!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stephanie shot Tony a look that begged him to hold his tongue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Swallowing hard, Tony said, “I am aware, and am very grateful. But independence is about more than money. And we’ve been enjoying it for a while.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Be that as it may, you are a </span>
  <em>
    <span>Stark</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Tony. Your children, however...ragged and half-bred they are, are </span>
  <em>
    <span>Starks</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and you are doing them a disservice by failing to raise them in the family home. Even your street-rat, adopted ones.” It was Tony’s turn to soothe Stephanie, giving her a look that reminded her not to punch Howard as that would not at all help the children. Love after he was gone would. “Besides, this </span>
  <em>
    <span>hovel</span>
  </em>
  <span> will barely make it another winter and then where will you be? Come home at once.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Howard’s eyebrows shot towards his hairline. “No?” He sat Peter down on the floor roughly, standing so as to be face to face with his only child. “No? It was not a request, Tony. You will pack your family’s things and return home with me tonight so that we may put this matter to bed. Your mother is worried and I have better things to do than attempt to reason with an idiot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stephanie watched what happened next as if the players involved were in a pool of slow moving syrup. Tony opened his mouth to argue, looking agitated beyond belief, but Clint lunged forward, cutting the argument off with a nasty right hook to his grandfather’s jaw.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The resulting silence was deafening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It only lasted a moment though before Peter broke it by bursting into terrified tears and Stephanie quickly scooped him up to soothe him, pulling Clint back by the shoulder. Her whole body was cold with fear. Knowing Howard, this would be the moment he announced that he was taking the money back, and her children would either starve or freeze to death this winter. But instead, he laughed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh now that one has guts! I like it! Hell of a right hook there, son. You’ve got the balls to do what your father never could and just came right at me. I respect that.” He sighed, clearly amused. “Alright. The boy’s convinced me to offer you a deal. Come home for the winter, get back to work at the company, in the lab, and if you’re absolutely miserable, can’t see how your wife and children are better off at the end of the season, I’ll let you come back here and you can keep the stipend to make ends meet. Don’t worry about the crops or the house, I’ll hire someone to work the fields and keep it standing while you’re gone. And when you see that I’m right, that you belong at home, in the comfort of a well built house with solid electricity and central heating that can be turned on whenever you want, we’ll sell the land and close up the house until your next vacation or one of the children gets married hm?” He looked appraisingly at Natasha. “I’d say she’ll be courting in a few years, wouldn’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stephanie just managed to speak up. “Not for a while, yet, Mr. Stark. She’s only eleven. Clint’s twelve.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Howard just continued.”Yes, a few years then. Fifteen is a good age to be presented to society. And as beautiful as she is, she’ll do nicely, I think.” Natasha looked wary, moving closer to Stephanie. “But that’s a consideration for after we have you all settled back home. I’d like to be back by supper so let’s get a move on hm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Natasha, Clint, please go pack your’s and your siblings things. I’m going to cook lunch, and then while you all eat, I’ll pack for me and Papa and the other things hm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Momma,” Natasha said quietly. Clint said nothing, but nodded and followed his sister upstairs to start packing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Howard resettled in the easy chair. “Do sit down, Tony. We have things to discuss while Stephanie prepares lunch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, sir,” Tony said, looking defeated. He took Peter from Stephanie and sat down, offering him a little wooden giraffe he had made him for his first birthday which he happily took and started playing with. Wanda and Pietro followed Stephanie into the kitchen, which made her smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wanna help Momma make lunch?” she asked warmly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Smiling, Stephanie put them to work shelling the last of the peas from the root cellar for her, while she herself sucked it up and started fixing the last of the beef they had. It definitely wasn’t the quality Howard would be expecting, but it was perfectly good meat that her family would enjoy, and that was all that mattered. She had been planning on something light for lunch, probably hard boiled eggs and bread, but Howard’s presence called for a full meal, and the food wouldn’t travel all that way into the city and needed to be eaten. So a hefty lunch it was going to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She just hoped it would be enough.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lunch was a quiet affair. The kids were in suspicious shock -- Howard, in their limited experience, usually drove their father to drink and their mother to slamming around pots and pans as she muttered in an ever thickening Irish-American brogue about what an arse he was -- and kept quiet as church mice, even Peter. Howard made a few slights against the meal, but also paid Stephanie the complement of cleaning his plate and telling her she was a good cook. If he’d bothered to treat Tony with any kindness at all, she might have been of a mind to accept the fatherly affection. But instead, all his attempts at making her feel like a special member of the family grated and chafed against her. He didn’t seem to notice, though, or if he did he didn’t particularly care. Tony thought he probably enjoyed how much it annoyed him to watch his father love her and not give him a crumb.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony, can you help me pack?” Stephanie asked quietly as she gathered the plates.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, dear.” He wiped his mouth with his handkerchief. “Kids, keep each other entertained, and make sure you’ve packed everything. Clint, check on the cow, and the chickens, run over to the Hill place and ask them to check in on things until the new hands arrive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Papa.” Clint grabbed his coat and hat and set off, door slamming behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Clint! Mind that door!” Stephanie called after him irritably. She sighed and made sure all the dishes were in the sink to be washed. “Piet, can you and Wanda help Nat with the dishes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Momma.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good boy.” With that, she scooped up the baby and headed upstairs. In the bedroom, she pulled out her valise and then Tony’s suitcase before setting Peter in the crib.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony stopped in the doorway. “Stephanie…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come help me fold,” she said, voice level. “Don’t want your shirts to be wrinkled.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stephanie, baby, stop.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She did, closing her eyes tight, not looking at him. Gently, he took hold of her upper arms, standing behind her. “I’m sorry, sugar. I’m so sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stephanie shook her head. “It’s not your fault,” she said, trying to blink back the tears welling up in her eyes, voice a bit strangled. “Macushla, it’s not your fault.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe not, but I hate that he can uproot us like this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tears flooded over then, and Stephanie let loose a sob. Turning, she hid herself in Tony’s arms, crying into his shoulder. Peter watched them, curious, but quiet. Tony held her close, running a hand through her hair soothingly. “It’ll be fine,” he said softly. “In a few months, we’ll be back here with the stipend from Howard and trying to find a way to buy a new cow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, right,” Stephanie said, sniffling. Pulling back a bit, she swiped at her tears. “You’re right. It’ll be like...like a vacation. Right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right. Like a vacation.” He gave her a small smile, brushing a strand of hair back from her face. “It’s going to be fine,” he murmured. “I promise you that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She put her hand over his on her cheek and leaned her forehead against his. “I trust you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stayed that way for a moment before he pulled away and kissed her forehead. “We should pack. You’ll want your things even if Howard will insult them and make us buy you new things to wear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stephanie laughed wetly, getting back to packing. “Can you pack the valuables and the memories, sugar?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, baby.” Tony carefully took the few picture frames they had, retrieving a few from other parts of the house, and wrapped them in a couple of his thicker work shirts to protect the glass. They were then tucked into the middle of his suitcase, while the candle sticks went into Stephanie’s valise. The cutlery and dishes weren’t worth worrying about, but Stephanie made sure to carefully tuck her meager jewelry collection into the pockets of one of her dresses, especially her mother’s wedding ring. The last thing Tony tucked into the suitcase was the double tintypes of Stephanie’s parents from their wedding. It was a meager collection, and Stephanie looked sad at seeing it all packed away so small, especially seeing the way their bags weren’t even full with all their clothes packed as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sighed. “That’s everything, then, I suppose. Unless we should take the baby’s toys?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony considered. “The one or two things he’s attached to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stephanie nodded, moving across the room to pick up the stuffed bear Peter slept with and the rattle he loved to shake when he sat with Stephanie as she worked. “There.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then we had best go tell the devil we’re ready to leave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a shared look, they picked up their bags, and headed downstairs to whatever fate awaited them.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 2: Supper</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The family arrives at the Stark mansion, and are greeted by an exuberant Maria</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>In my headcanon, Maria Stark is minor Spanish nobility, so the Spanish endearments are in keeping with that. Also, this is. A big fuckin house, y'all. Of course, being the home of Howard Stark, it's been well remodeled to have all the modern day conveniences, like indoor bathrooms with running water, top notch electricity, two telephones, while maintaining the character of the Victorian house it was built as. Despite being all about the future, I imagine Howard likes the impression of being "Old Money" that the house provides, because he is definitely "New Money."</p><p>This chapter goes towards the Fall 2020 Bringing Food to the Lab Seasonal Bingo, filling the square "cider."</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When they arrived at the Stark mansion, in the suburbs of New York, the kids were more than happy to scramble out of the car. The family had been on top of each for the entirety of the three hour drive, Peter in Stephanie’s lap, Wanda in Tony’s. The silence had been palpable, stiflingly thick and impossible to cut through. Howard had retreated into his work reports, occasionally handing pertinent things to Tony, with sharp comments to pay attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The smell of his cigar was still making Stephanie nauseous, even in the fresh evening air of the front courtyard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As they stood there, collecting their bags from the driver, the door flew open and out stepped Maria, Tony’s mother. “You’re here! Oh! I can’t believe it you’re here! Your father said he was going to bring you home but I didn’t believe he would actually manage it!” She hugged Tony tightly. “Oh, sweetheart.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi, Mom,” he said softly. “I’m sorry to have worried you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s all in the past now,” she said firmly, smile painfully bright. Gently, she took his face in her hands. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Lindo</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I have missed you. Welcome home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stephanie stood shyly just off to the side. Howard had already gone inside, not bothering to play host now that his part in getting them there was finished, and Stephanie was surrounded by quiet, wowed children. They had, of course, been to the town house in the city proper, but none of them except for Clint and Natasha had been to the mansion. But when Maria Stark turned to them, it was like they had been there only a few days before. “Stephanie! I have missed your beautiful face, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Coraz</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>ó</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>n</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I am so happy you will be around to keep me company now, we don’t spend near enough time together, </span>
  <em>
    <span>tesoro</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Laughing, Stephanie said, “It’s nice to see you, too, Mrs. Stark.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Tesoro</span>
  </em>
  <span> I insist you call me Maria. I know better than to try to get you to call me Mother or Mom.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, Maria.” Stephanie blushed, but Maria just smiled and gently patted her cheek, before moving on to cooing over her grandchildren.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>bebés</span>
  </em>
  <span>, look at you. Such </span>
  <em>
    <span>ángels</span>
  </em>
  <span>! I swear you all grow a mile every time I see you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The children were quiet, and their parents gently urged them to say hello and interact. Even the oldest two, who Stephanie had thought long past their shy stage, took some encouragement. Maria was not at all deterred though, hugging them all and providing endearments like they were water. Truly, it was amazing such a petite woman could contain so much affection. Tony chalked it up to being Spanish.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come inside, come inside,” she urged. “It’s time to warm you all up and feed you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony laughed, and said something in rapid fire Spanish that zoomed over Stephanie’s head beyond “Mama” and her own name. Maria’s response was to chuckle and pat his cheek before taking Pietro’s hand to lead them all inside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Inside was warm, inviting, the kind of place one would want to call home. Of course, with Howard around it was impossible for Tony to relax. Stephanie took his hand and held it as they walked through to a cozy sitting room. Maria sent a maid for a tray of something and then gently ushered the children out of their coats one by one before moving on to Tony, Stephanie and Peter. “There we go,” she said. “Sit down, sit down. I sent Phillipa for some drinks.” She cooed at Peter, who smiled and gurgled back. “Oh he is so precious, </span>
  <em>
    <span>mi cielito</span>
  </em>
  <span>. So precious. Do you think you two will have any more?” She looked so hopeful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stephanie looked at Tony, who just looked back. “I mean, maybe? It’s Stephanie’s call, since it’s her body.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love babies,” Stephanie said. “But it did take us an awfully long time to have a third one so...maybe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maria looked so pleased, and when Phillippa returned to the room with a tray of drinks, she urged her to set the tray on the table and began handing them out. There was cider, which Stephanie could smell as soon as the door opened, warm and sweet and well spiced, which Maria handed to the children in small, thick glass cups. For Peter, there was a bottle of warm milk, with a touch of sugar and vanilla. And then Tony and Stephanie, hot tea with cream, and honey. The room was enveloped in a cozy quiet as they sipped their drinks, only broken by Pietro’s tiny voice as looked at Maria hopefully. “May I have some more, please?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course! Phillippa, bring in a pot of the cider for me, please? Can’t have my grandchildren going thirsty now can we?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pietro’s smile was very bright, and Stephanie couldn’t help but feel her heart flutter at how happy her son was to be accepted. Howard had made it clear that he felt Pietro and Wanda weren’t really Starks, but Maria’s love clearly knew no such bounds. Tony had declared them his children and so she would treat them as his children. When Philippa brought the pot of cider, Maria took it and poured Pietro his second glass. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would anyone else like some more?” Wanda and Clint accepted the offer, but Natasha shook her head, covering her mouth to cough lightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maria was concerned. “We’ll want to keep an eye on that cough,” she said softly. “Stephanie, what do you usually give them for a cough?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A bit of whiskey and honey, thinned with warm water,” Stephanie said. “I was just telling Tony this morning that we needed to buy some more whiskey to nip that coughing in the bud quick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine, Momma,” Natasha said. “I think it’s just allergies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to risk it turning into something worse, baby. Besides, a few times taking a cough remedy won’t do you any harm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll call the doctor in a few days if it doesn’t start to clear up,” Maria said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stephanie nodded, but privately, she wondered how much that would cost and if Howard would use that against Tony.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The kids, meanwhile, were content to go back to their treats, gaining enough confidence to actually speak, mostly asking Maria questions, though Natasha was still quiet, reluctant. Clint may have been the eldest, but she was the most observant, and she knew that anything to do with her grandparents, even her good-at-heart grandmother, was bad news for her Papa. They stressed him out, and made him cry into his whiskey. All the warm cider, all the happy welcomes, couldn’t ease her suspicion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another maid stepped into the room. “Supper is ready, my lady.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excellent! Come along, children, let’s get some food in those bellies so that you can crawl into bed hm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boys eagerly followed her, though Wanda reached for Tony, who scooped her up and settled her on his hip to carry her to the dining room. Natasha stuck close to them, Stephanie following behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maria was settling the boys into their spots as the others walked into the room, chuckling at how eager they were. “Such eager boys! You must give your mother a run for her money!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That they do, Maria,” Stephanie murmured. She didn’t see a high chair for Peter, so kept him with her as she sat down in the chair indicated. Natasha sat across from her, next to Pietro, and Wanda sat between Stephanie and Tony. Maria sat at the end of the table next to Stephanie and Natasha. The other end was, conspicuously, bare. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Stark has opted to take supper in his study, Mrs. Stark,” Philippa said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a sigh, Maria nodded. “I understand. He’s just been so busy lately,” she offered the family. “Hopefully with you home, Tony, he’ll be able to take a break.” Her voice was a bit strained, a veneer of false hope over her words. She was clearly sad, but brushed it away. “Oh well. Go ahead and serve, Philippa.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a nod, the woman disappeared into the kitchen to begin dinner service, reappearing with two other women, each carrying two plates of food. They sat the plates in front of the family, each of them making a second trip to retrieve Maria’s plate, a small plate of soft vegetables for Peter, and two baskets of fresh baked rolls. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dig in,” Maria said, smiling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In front of the family were plates of well cooked fish, alongside rice with steamed vegetables, and potatoes au gratin. The kids were interested in the fish, poking at it, carefully tasting it, deciding if they liked it. It passed the test for most of them, and everyone but Wanda dug in to it, and she ate the sides happily enough. Peter was content to eat his peas and carrots and beets with Stephanie’s assistance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Monday we should take the children out to get some new clothes while Tony and Howard go into the office,” Maria said. “I’ve got several birthdays and Christmases to make up for, after all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Stephanie said earnestly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nonsense!” Maria said. “I want to, and they’ll need more than work clothes to be here over the winter! The things they have will be fine for being around the house, or things like going to the park, but for church, and all the holiday events they’ll need nice things. And really, you all deserve nice things.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clint spoke up then. “Does this mean pants that are actually long enough?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, it does,” Maria said. “And we’ll make sure there’s growing room in everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stephanie felt a bit better about it when she said that, but a glance at Tony told her that he was even less comfortable with the idea of his mother buying the children clothes -- which would undoubtedly be the gateway to toys and books and other treats -- than Stephanie was. Neither wanted to hurt her feelings, but how on earth would Howard react? They would have to handle that when it happened, she supposed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, how about dessert?” Maria offered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Four pairs of puppy eyes looked at Stephanie. “May we, Momma?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose, but only a </span>
  <em>
    <span>small</span>
  </em>
  <span> serving each.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maria waved in the maids to clear the dinner plates and return with dessert, which turned out to be a very colorful fruit salad, with whipped cream on top. “Enjoy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It disappeared in seconds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You would think we didn’t feed you at all today!” Tony exclaimed, laughing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were the same, Tony,” Maria said warmly. “It was always a wonder.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chuckled at that, and then stretched. “Well, thank you for an excellent supper, Mom.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can look forward to many more,” Maria said warmly. Laying her napkin on the table, she said, “We should get the children into bed, so that you can rest. Your father is sure to want you at work bright and early Monday, and there’s mass in the morning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do we haaaave to?” Wanda asked, doing her best to look cute.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I certainly can’t make you go,” Maria said. “That’s up to your parents.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wanda looked up at Tony. “Pleeeaaaase, Papa?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stephanie?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose you can miss tomorrow, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>only</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Stephanie said, “if you agree to behave for whoever is watching you while we’re gone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be good, Momma! I pwomise!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright. We’ll figure out who’s staying home with you in the morning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One of the maids will watch her,” Maria assured. “Margaret, perhaps, or Philippa.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stephanie nodded, and shifted a now very sleepy Peter in her arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s show you to your rooms,” Maria said softly. She stood, and everyone else followed her lead as she headed into the hallway and up the grand staircase. They passed a few doors before she stopped at one. “A room for the boys.” The door swung open and she gestured for Clint and Pietro to go in and explore. It had two twin beds, with simple, if expensive coverlets, and well carved headboards and footboards, and was papered in an elegant blue stripe. “I figured for tonight they would prefer to bunk together. WE can sort out rooms of their own and decorations this week.” Stepping across the hall, she opened the door to another bedroom, this one with a floral wallpaper, and again, two twin beds, but these had ruffled bedskirts and coverlets. “And for the girls.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the older four explored their rooms, Maria opened the door next to the girls’ bedroom to reveal a small nursery. “For Peter.” She smiled and gently brushed a knuckle across his cheek. “And the room next door is for you two,” she said. “The door on the left connects this nursery and your room.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Stephanie murmured. Stepping inside, she gently settled Peter into the wrought iron crib, covering him with the well-loved quilt. “Good night, sweetheart,” she whispered. “Sleep well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She left then, stepping through the door into her own bedroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What she saw made her blink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A large four poster bed with heavy velvet drapes dominated the room, and a thick rug covered a good portion of the floor. A small en suite bathroom was visible beyond a cracked door across from the nursery, and a door closer to the exterior wall hinted at a closet. Between the doors, a fireplace kept the room warm, and provided a soft glow of light.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh wow,” Stephanie said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s overdoing it,” Tony said. He seemed a bit grim.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stephanie frowned. “Tony, she just wants us to be comfortable and happy. She wants you to stay. You can’t blame her for trying.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed, and sat on the edge of the bed, reaching for her hand. Going to him, she let him pull her into his lap. “I know, sweetheart, I know,” he said. He nosed at her cheek. “But with him around I-- I just </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Surely she knows that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe she’s hoping this will fix things,” Stephanie supplied. “I doubt it, but maybe that’s what she hopes. Or maybe he’s really sick this time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe. But whatever it is, I’m not looking forward to breaking her heart when we have to leave in the spring.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll see what happens, baby. We’ll see what happens.”</span>
</p>
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